


Lanes

by FakePlastikTrees



Category: Good Girls (TV)
Genre: 2x6, F/M, a sneak peek fueled oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2020-01-04 22:12:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18352733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FakePlastikTrees/pseuds/FakePlastikTrees
Summary: Beth and Rio have a little chat about Beth and what lanes she's allowed to stay in.





	Lanes

**Author's Note:**

> Not gonna lie. Rio telling Beth to stay in her lane pissed me off even though I love em. Here's me getting Beth to call him out. Based on the promo.

She’s drying the last dish in the sink when the light censor picks him up in the backyard. His gun has a threatening glint to it under the dim light and his stride’s got a purposeful firmness to it that is just as menacing, but Beth’s got enough rage coiled within her gut that she isn’t fazed by him. Not tonight.

 

Their eyes align from across the yard but she won’t meet him halfway. If he wants a fight, he can come to her, so she stands her ground on the back porch and waits while he walks toward her—no, not walks. Stalks. Like he’s a predator and she’s prey. Something inside her wants to laugh at that. She’s no prey anymore.

 

The closer he gets, the better she can see the way his muscles are tight with barely concealed anger. His shoulders straight and tight, his jaw is set and his eyes are cold and focused, his hold on the gun firm.

 

She lifts her chin when he reaches the porch, stepping slow and steady up the steps so there’s but a stride of space between them.

 

“Where’d you put it?”

 

She tilts her head and shakes it a little. “Where’d I put what?”

 

Something like a chuckle comes out, but the quirk on his lips is cruel. The vein on the side of his neck bulges; if her heart is racing with the mere sight of him there, looking righteous and entitled, his must be racing through the roof.

 

“I’m not playing games with you, where are the pills.” It’s not a question, nor a request; it’s a demand. And that right there is what really gets her. That he’s back to treating her like someone to run his errands for him.

 

“Oh, you mean the pills you’re smuggling to god-knows-where through _my_ dealership? Those pills? They’re safe.”

 

“Where are they, Elizabeth.”

 

Something inside her threatens to snap at the sound of her name, but she pushes the feeling back.

 

“You don’t have to worry about that right now. You can have them back after we talk. Maybe.”

 

She feels a little like she’s talking to one of her kids, bargaining for a positive reaction. But there’s no positive reaction, not with Rio. There’s no easing into anything, there’s no negotiation; it’s always _his_ money, _his_ business, _his_ terms.

 

He’s quick but she doesn’t flinch, not even when he presses the gun to her face with the same hand he’d ripped her underwear off two weeks prior. She swears she sees the memory mirrored back at her for a moment but his stare is hard.

 

“You think your special, huh?” He growls, presses the cold barrel of the gun just a fraction harder to her cheek. “You got another thing coming if you think you can mess with my business after the shit you’ve pulled.”

 

“Really?” She asks. He doesn’t blink. “Then shoot me.”

 

There’s a pause, and Beth swears she feels a chill in the air but it could just be them. His eyes flicker down at her lips. It’s quick but she catches it, and she can’t decide if she wants to slap him or fuck him again. _He’s infuriating_.

 

“You need me,” she tells him, and watches the slightest trace of amusement shift the muscles of his face. “You need my business. The sooner you get good with that, the sooner we get this operation running. Now get that gun out of my face.”

 

He waits to scan her features, drinking her in like he does, but he lowers the gun slowly and she hears the safety click back into place. He’s no less annoyed with her than before, but he looks--impressed. And for some reason, that’s the thing that makes the tight band around her patience snap.

 

“Let me make something very clear to _you_ now.”

 

“Oh, please.” He gestures with his free hand as if giving her the floor.

 

Stepping into his space the way he loves to do with her, so close she could kiss him if she wanted, and he could kill her if he wanted, she adds, “As long as we're using _my_ business as a cover, I don't have one _little lane_ . They're ALL my lanes. You can’t afford to keep me in the dark if you want things to run smoothly because I am not a silent partner. And I’m not risking running my family’s well being into the ground _again_ because some man’s got an ego to stroke.”

 

He smirks.

 

The bastard.

 

“Copy that, boss.”

 

She can’t figure out if he’s mocking her, though the odds are he probably is. But she’s gotten her point across and it feels good, so she rides that high to her following statement.

 

“I’ve also decided we’re splitting everything 50/50. I’ve got costs to cover.”

 

He rocks his jaw and she’s prepared for him to shoot her down with a smarmy comment or some backhanded compliment, but instead, he says. “Okay.”

 

“Everything okay, Bethy?”

 

They both turn to see Dean holding Emma, looking worried and possessive all at once and Beth wants to hit him.

 

Rio’s discreetly hidden his gun from view and this is when she realizes just how close they had been standing because when she turns to address Dean, her shoulder brushes his chest.

 

“Yeah,” she forces a smile for Emma’s benefit, and a look that says _go back inside_ for Dean’s. “Just having a quick chat about work. I’ll be right in.”

 

“You sure?”

 

“We’re good,” Rio replies before Beth can and they both watch Dean disappear back inside the house.

 

When it’s just the two of them again, and it’s quiet and the aggression has been toned down to a low simmer, there’s one more thing to settle when she turns to face him again.

 

“Are you married?”

 

He laughs as he tucks his gun away. “What?”

 

“Because I don’t have the time or the patience to be someone’s side piece. You can do whatever you want with other people but I’m not a homewrecker and--”

 

“I’m not married.”

 

He’s smiling.

 

She hates him.

 

“Oh. Okay.”

 

“That was my son’s mom when you were stalking me. If you wanted to know, you could have asked.”

 

“What? Who?” She won’t meet his eyes because she’s caught. She’s caught and they both know it, but he’ll never believe she wasn’t following him, that seeing him with _her_ was not something she went looking for.

 

And then he’s leaning in to brush a strand of hair back and she’s trying to keep her breathing under control.

 

“Next time you and your girls want to stalk me, maybe borrow a different car.”

 

Beth rolls her eyes. “Please. We were not stalking you.”

 

“No?”

 

She’s blushing so intensely, she has to get away from him. As she walks back toward the house, she quickly says, “Don’t flatter yourself. The pills are in the storage locker you put under my name.”

 

“Elizabeth.”

 

She turns with her hand on the door handle and the way he’s looking at her now, the complete contrast of mere minutes ago, makes her smile against her better judgement. “What?”

 

“I didn’t know you were the jealous type.”

 

“Shut up,” she says, and she wants nothing more than to invite him in, and she can see he knows it. “Goodnight.”

 

“Goodnight.”


End file.
